


Misunderstandings

by StolenChilde



Series: John'Verse [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StolenChilde/pseuds/StolenChilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel’s been keeping secrets. He should have known it was only a matter of time before Dean found out… Though Castiel didn’t think it would be this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is the fluffiest, schmoopiest, sappiest thing I’ve written in a _long_ time. I’m thinking it may even be borderline crack… but I never had a really good understanding of that particular fandom term. You guys let me know.

Castiel watched fondly as Dean picked John up and tossed him into the air, bending as the boy came back down to cushion his weight against him. Then he tossed him again and swung the child around the boy giggling gleefully as he soared through the air. Cas turned his attention back to the papers in front of him and the fountain pen slowly dripping blue-black ink back into the small golden pot it rested across. Castiel didn’t really understand why this was his responsibility. He was shocked beyond imagining when they had appointed him as Commander of Gabriel’s garrison. Complete with second set of wings, Castiel shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not used to the weight. The moment John had seen him the first time after he was promoted the child’s eyes widened in complete and utter shock and awe.

“Papa are you a—” the child began.

“John Tabris,” Castiel had interrupted lowly before John could finish his sentence. He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable yet with revealing his new status to Dean, it had happened only a short while ago and the only reason John could see them is because Castiel forgot to obscure them to the child’s eyes in his daze.

Now Castiel was stuck pouring over the ranks and names. He was to reorganize the garrison by week’s end and begin a training schedule for the younger angels. He groaned. This less than thrilling task made him very thankful when the phone rang. Without thinking he scrambled to answer it. He’d take anything that would get him away from the paper on the kitchen table. He realized belatedly that he answered Dean’s phone, not that it mattered, but Castiel may not be as helpful to the caller as Dean would be.

“Hello?” the angel answered hesitantly.

“Mr. Winchester?” it was a light though somewhat stern feminine voice.

“Yes,” Castiel answered because according to his falsified identification that is precisely who he was.

“This is Miss Thompson, your son’s teacher. I have some… concerns over something that has occurred in class recently and would very much like to meet with you to discuss it. When would be the next convenient time for you?” she was picking her words carefully. Castiel hated when humans picked their words carefully because it always inevitably meant they had something they wanted to disguise.

“Immediately,” Castiel answered abruptly because he was not only damn curious about the welfare of his child but he also knew that’s what Dean would have done.  
“Tomorrow after school then. If you could have someone take John home first though that would be preferred. I don’t wish to upset him and his presence there may cause… difficulties. Good night Mr. Winchester, see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” Castiel hung up the phone and stared at it as if it was inhabited by a demon. He very much wanted to smite the infernal brick of plastic, metal and glass but put it aside instead.

“Dean,” Castiel called, raising his voice so it would carry into the other room as he gathered up his papers. “Earplugs.”

He heard the mumbled protests of John and then Dean’s hurried and worried footsteps. Earplugs meant business. Which in turn meant John was to go and play quietly for a while, while the grown-ups spoke. As he was getting older he was beginning to resent it more and more. Cas had to smile at how much like Dean he was.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked as soon as he came into the kitchen.

“I answered your phone. A Miss Thompson wishes to meet with us to discuss John. She said she has ‘concerns’ about some recent behaviour,” Castiel explained complete with air quotes, Dean shook his head at that, but it did not dissuade his worries.

“Oookaaay,” Dean mused. “Weird.”

“We’ll be meeting with her after school tomorrow. She requested John not be there so I will fly him home to Sam and then meet you back at the school.”

Dean frowned, “More weird.” Castiel couldn’t help but agree with his human’s assessment.

-*-

The next day John was confused over why they weren’t taking the ‘wicked ‘Stang’ home has he had come to refer to Castiel’s car. He currently had a fondness for it over the Impala because the kids at school thought it was cooler. Dean hated the fact and Cas wasn’t too pleased either. It meant having to get the bloody car seat in the back a lot more. With little more explanation than the much detested “’Cause we said so,” from Dean, Cas flew John home, deposited him on Sam’s waiting lap and then flew back to the school, all in a blink. Dean hardly even flinched anymore when Cas popped in without so much as a warning.

Dean pushed off the wall he was leaning against and led the angel down the festively decorated hallways, all bright images, student work and themed bulletin boards.

Dean stopped at a wooden door that proclaimed _Miss Thompson’s Grade 1 Class_ in pink bubble letter cut-outs. Dean knocked once and a lovely blond woman with bright blue eyes answered the door.

The smile she had prepared on her lips faltered a little when she noticed the two men standing there, “Ah… oh! I was under the impression you would come by yourself when we spoke on the phone last night Mr. Winchester.” This she directed to Dean the face that was familiar to her.

“You spoke with me on the phone,” Castiel replied.

“Oh! And you are…” she chewed her lip, looking very bewildered and slightly pale.

“Mr. Cass Winchester,” Castiel replied.

“Are you the brother…?” the woman seemed more uncertain as the time progressed.

“No, that’s Sam Winchester,” Dean offered. “This is my… ah… John’s father… Other father.”

The woman went from stark white to a deep red flush in an instant before ushering the two men inside, “Well then this makes things a little troubling…”

“Why?” Dean asked suddenly very suspicious.

“I was going to offer my condolences over your loss Mr. Winchester, um… Mr. Dean Winchester,” she faltered again.

“My what?” Dean blinked.

Miss Thompson sighed then, gesturing for the men to come further in the room, “It’ll be easier if I showed you.” She flipped efficiently through the file she had waiting on her desk that had Winchester, J. written neatly across the top, before pulling out a simple piece of drawing paper.

“It was ‘My Family’ week recently and well of course I asked the children to draw their families, I was very, very concerned when I came across John because well…” she handed it over. It was a typical childish stick figure rendition of a family. Sam, Dean, John and Cas were all in it. Their names written in John’s squiggly just learning print. What probably concerned the teacher was the picture of Castiel had yellow beams shooting away from it, with a double set of large black wings behind.

“I asked why John’s Papa had wings and he said quite simply that he was angel. When I asked where John’s Papa was, John answered that he was in Heaven… Naturally I assumed well… that he had died of course. Which I found a little strange because I didn’t hear anything but some parents are very private and I thought maybe you just wanted to keep it to yourself. But then John didn’t take any time off so I worried about him and that’s why I brought you in here to make sure that things were all okay and to see if I could do anything to help… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have… assumed but naturally if a child says their parent is an angel in Heaven…” the woman faltered.

“Right,” Dean smiled tightly. _Damnit_. Dean thought of a lie and he thought it up quick.

“Ah… it’s just a… ah… endearment I have for Cas here, yanno? I guess John thought maybe given that he’s still so young that I was calling Cas an angel because he actually is one… And… ah… Cas was away… on a business trip… you know for work and John asked where he was and it was this, um… spa thing, right Babe?” Dean nudged Cas. Castiel was watching the whole thing with a very strange expression on his face, a bizarre mix of terror-awe-amusement. At the nudge he quickly came back to himself.

“Yes, right, a spa,” Castiel corroborated. _Nooo, this wasn’t **at all** suspicious_.

“Yeah, well, try explaining a spa to a six-year-old, right? So I said it was a place that was pretty much like Heaven… ‘Cause… ah… it’s so nice, to go to them and there’s all that… ah… white. Anyway! My point: big misunderstanding. Cas is perfectly alive and well and we’re very sorry,” Dean plastered on a grin.

“Um… ah… yes. Okay,” Miss Thompson blinked. “Sorry to have… bothered you then.”

“No worries,” Dean said, “Anything else?” The teacher shook her head no and Dean was pulling Cas out of the room but he had employed full angel strength and was immobile as a bolder.

“Can I have that?” Castiel asked gesturing to the drawing that Dean had handed back.

“Sure,” Miss Thompson handed it over.

“Thank you. Good bye,” Castiel said as he took the drawing and held it reverently, walking out the room. Dean found himself jogging to catch up.

“Dude,” Dean snickered, “that was awkward.”

“Yes,” Castiel said distractedly.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Dean stopped them in the middle of the corridor.

“Nothing. It’s just… I find this picture humbling. I suppose. The love that John put into drawing it,” Castiel said. “I don’t have a picture of us. It will be nice to have when I must undertake my duties in Heaven.”

“Oh,” Dean said quietly. Then mentally vowed to get a proper picture taken because, yeah, he realized they didn’t have one. Not that John’s drawing wasn’t fantastic, but to have a picture of what they really were would be nice. That’s when Dean frowned.

“What’s with the wings?” Dean asked.

Castiel blanched, “We should get home.” He touched two fingers to Dean’s forehead before the man could protest and Dean stumbled into the kitchen. Dean shook his head.

John was pouting angrily at the kitchen table when Dean regained his senses a moment later. The boy’s expression was dark and his little arms were crossed.

“You’re both dumb,” John snarked.

“Hey! You watch your mouth,” Dean frowned.

“No one tells me _anything_ around here. I didn’t even _know_ Papa was now an archangel until I saw the wings. Now you have a weird meeting with my teacher that you don’t tell me about? This sucks,” John pouted.

“John, you’re six. You don’t need to know everything,” Dean put his hands on his hips. Not at all pleased with his son’s tone. Which was precisely when John’s words caught up to him. He turned a wide-eyed gaze to Castiel and saw that the angel’s stricken expression was why he had been markedly silent through the entire exchange.

“John, room, now,” Dean said in a voice broking no argument.

“Wow,” John remarked. “Busted Papa.” The child scattered before he could get involved. There are some things he just didn’t want to bear witness to.

“That kid is such a brat,” Dean shook his head. Then Dean turned angry eyes to Castiel, “So are you! What the hell is he talking about?”

“Um…” Castiel fidgeted. “They’ve appointed me Commander of Gabriel’s garrison. Apparently my work the last several years and my efforts at redeeming myself have satisfied Our Father and He found it in His Grace to bestow upon me the honour of… Archangel.”

“Holy shit,” Dean gaped.

“Yes, I suppose that’s accurate,” Castiel’s lips quirked.

Dean shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, “When?”

“Um… about a week ago,” Castiel said sheepishly.

“And you didn’t tell me?!” Dean exclaimed.

“I… I didn’t quite understand it myself yet Dean. By all intents and purposes I should never have received this honour. I disobeyed. I very nearly fell and then rose myself as a false god. It was only you that pulled me back and I had lost quite a lot of my abilities following it, having about the same strength as I did following Lucifer’s rise when I was being drained of my grace. Then gradually as time went on… I must have done enough good and met His will because my abilities began to grow and then, then this happened. I don’t really… I can’t… It’s all…” Castiel made a frustrated noise in his throat and Dean heard a massive crack in the air like the rippling of a canvass sail in the wind. Dean realized that it must have been Castiel’s wings.

“It’s all very overwhelming,” Castiel quietly managed to say, standing with his shoulders slumped. His tension seemed eased slightly now that his wings were not confined.

Dean took a tentative step forward. He knew logically Castiel hadn’t changed, just because he was now ridiculously powerful, he was still Castiel. Dean’s heart knew this just as surely as his head, but there was a strange buzzing in the room that Dean had been noticing the last several days but was just shrugging off. And Castiel was so _warm_ now, like he was running a constant fever and yeah, sure, Dean had noticed that too but it had been warm lately. And okay, maybe Castiel’s eyes had looked a little more brilliant than usual, but Dean chalked that one up to the angel… _archangel_ … just being happy. Dean let out a shaky breath and took another miniscule step as if approaching a wild animal. Castiel let out a small injured noise, his face crumbling as he looked up, shocked and hurt, into Dean’s eyes.

“Dean why are you…?” Castiel swallowed back the words. He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say that Dean was _afraid_ of him. Castiel closed his eyes and was about to return to Heaven when he felt a hand shoot out and grasp his own.

“Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean said his eyes wide with panic. “Don’t go! I’m just… Like you said… It’s overwhelming. I just… I need a minute. But don’t go. I just have to wrap my head around the fact that you could obliterate half the world with a blink right now, okay?”

“Dean! I’d never!”

“Cas, I know, I know. But you _can_. You can do so much. I mean Gabriel could bend time to his will without breaking a sweat and do so much more and now… now you can and…” Dean realized there were an awful lot of broken sentences going around and just decided the best thing to do was sit the fuck down before he hurt himself. Then he realized something else and his head snapped up, “My mom… my dad! Can you… Can we… go back?”

“Dean,” a weary sigh, because yes they could, easily now but it would never be the same if they did.

“I just… want John to meet them I guess,” Dean said sadly. “Never mind.”

“I understand Dean, I’d very much like John to meet the brothers I have lost too and the thought of being able to take him there is more tempting than I would like to admit, but I have been given these powers as a gift and I don’t want to take advantage of them. I don’t want to risk…” _Losing them again_.

“Right, you’re right.”

There was a beat of silence that had Dean sitting and staring at the linoleum under his sock feet and had Castiel standing weary and anxious in the middle of the room. Then Dean looked up again and took in Castiel for the first time since he heard about his new found status, _really_ took him in. He was beautiful. Dean blinked. Castiel seemed to resonate now with something more ethereal and radiant. Breathtaking and captivating. That previously ignored thrum that the archangel exuded was now curling out and dancing along Dean’s skin as if desperate to get close to him again and seek acceptance.

Dean was standing and reaching out before he could form a conscious thought to do so and his hand grasped at the empty space beyond Castiel’s shoulders touching something very, very real but not all at once. Dean curled his fingers and imaged the phantom touch of feathers under his fingertips. Castiel stood stock still and tried to reign in his leaking essence that he now found nearly impossible to control that Dean was fully aware of it.

“I’m still getting used to it, I’m sorry,” Castiel whispered.

“No Cas, don’t apologize. Can I… help?” Dean felt the offer useless the moment the words tumbled from his lips.

Castiel shook his head and smiled, “It’s all right. I will apologize in advance though if there is a sudden bursting of light bulbs or shattering of glass. I have been clamping down on the power quite extensively for the last week and it will frankly be a relief to let some of it out.” There was silence for several moments, neither really knowing what to say.

Eventually Castiel spoke, “Dean, I’m still me. I promise. When this happened to me nothing of me was taken away. I’m not going to turn into Michael just because he and I share this now, I swear to you Dean.”

Dean winced when he heard the dreaded name long buried but maybe that was it a little bit. Maybe the fact that the only archangels they had ever dealt with (including Gabriel at first) had been utter dickwads and frankly had been just plain scary. Castiel though, had _never_ been like other angels.

Dean finally allowed himself to smile fully, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Castiel blinked.

“Okay, I’m good. Congratulations Cas,” Dean’s smile broadened still, as he closed the short space between them and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss. Castiel readily moved against Dean pushing as close as he could and wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders. When they pulled away Dean’s lips were tingling.

Dean pressed a finger to his lips and let out a quiet breathy laugh, “Well I think that just qualified as a sparks flying.”

Castiel chuckled.

**End**


End file.
